Labyrinth Lost

Right now, I'm just a girl, and there is also magic in that.

She ate the stars and swallowed the earth, She is the girl with all the power.

Not all loves are meant to last forever. Some burn like fire until there is nothing left but ash and black ink on skin.

Not all monsters look monstrous.’ There’s so much sadness in his voice that I want to ask how he knows that. 'Sometimes they’re perfectly normal humans. Sometimes they’re so beautiful, you would never suspect.

We all get scared and want to turn away, but it isn’t always strength that makes you stay. Strength is also making the decision to change your destiny.

Why’s it always the heart or the eye of something?” Rishi asks. “You notice that? There are so many body parts that don’t get enough love, like earlobes and belly buttons.

For a long time, I wanted nothing more than to be ordinary. As we run through the changing paths of this maze, I realize I was never ordinary to begin with. We are built a certain way, and the only thing I regret is that it took me so long to see that.

I'm not the encantrix everyone thought I would be. Right now, I'm just a girl, and there is also magic in that.

I didn't want to think about you dead." "That's the thing, my love. Even if you don't think of the dead, the dead are thinking of you.

They Call her the Devourer.” “I'm guessing she's not a unicorn princess.

You were a pirate queen who stole a treasure from Cortés and then ended up deserting your crew to man-hungry sharks,” Rose tells her. “We’re your punishment for every lifetime to come.

Mama Juanita used to say that when you drop a spoon, get ready for company, probably from a vindictive woman. A fork—a handsome man. A knife—lock the doors and windows.

I like to think I’m the right amount of cold. That way, no one can hurt me.

His skin is the green of aging leaves, and his body is covered in thorny vines that move like extended limbs. He raises his hand, and a vine slithers out of the center of his palm. I can see the remnants of the man it once was. Its face is distorted and black veins are visible beneath its skin. In its open mouth are black gums and pieces of broken teeth. Gouged eyes are a mess of torn flesh. They don’t need eyes to see. The blind giants. The

The mouse man grins and stuffs his mouth with cake. His wrists are too small for some of his bracelets, and when one of them slips, I notice black-and-red wounds ring his wrists. “Something

Gold, silver, and leather bracelets decorate his wrists, and dozens of bauble rings adorn his fingers like knuckle-dusters. My dad had a knuckle-duster from when he was younger. It’s in the bottom drawer of my mom’s dresser wrapped in a yellowing handkerchief. “You

remember the night of my Deathday. The portal opened up, and she was on the other side, waiting, her face hidden by the horned skull of a hideous beast.

By the Deos of eternity. By the blood of my blood. By the light of La Mama and the shadow of El Papa, I offer the blood of the wretched. Open a door to Los Lagos.” There’s

When I wake from the memory, I can still smell the dead.

Blood and rot and smoke and whispers filled my head.

All lands change for the worse when the people do not fight back. Now there is nothing left.” “But

The withered creatures are pulling apart from their eternal soup and clamouring for us

But what if we were ordinary people, without this darkness surrounding us? Terrible things could happen still. That’s just the way of the worlds.

Never, ever could you be weak. We all think about leaving, Alejandra. We all get scared and want to turn away, but it isn’t always strength that makes you stay. Strength is also making the decision to change your destiny.” “But look at what I did! My powers are gone.

What happened with Miluna, with your father—that was not your fault! I’m going to tell you something about your mother, but you can’t tell her.

You can’t be mad at her. She had a hard time. I watched you guys every day. You’re an amazing girl, Alejandra. Your mom did the best she could even if it didn’t feel like it was enough. She did the best she could.

Everyone thinks they have another day, month, year to keep going. As if all of this world and the others were designed for them alone.

know something isn’t right, but part of me still wants to believe in the spell of the meadow. Spell. It’s all a spell.